Chapter Seven BarrettThe drive over to my mother’s house is a lot longer than I remember.
I could speed things up, lay on the gas and be there a few minutes sooner, but more than anything I want to turn right around and head to Ava’s place. Her mother would welcome me back in with open arms, and I wouldn’t have to worry about taking up too much space. Frustration burns slowly in my chest like a slow wildfire when I spy the sign for my old neighborhood, making a tight turn down the snow-slick road.
I blow out a slow breath. A few hours of smiling and talking to everybody, catching up because no one ever calls, or sends birthday cards, then I can drive on back before it’s too late. Of course, I love my family, but I’ve always been the odd one out, the firstborn son before my mom was marrie
